Curse of the Annoying Modern-Day Person
by DecisiveEmuVictory
Summary: She's pretty dissatisfied with her life lately. The feeling only increases when she finds herself pulled into a world without toilets.
1. Library Weirdness

**A/N: As you may have noticed, my fanfiction writing sorta fizzled out for a while. And then I got really embarrassed about the old stuff and took it down. But then I looked over the PotC stuff and I was like, hey, I still really like this. So I've been editing it to make it even better.**

**Originally I was only going to post it on Archive of Our Own, because that's the ~hip new thing~ everyone puts their fic on nowadays, but it has exactly four hits and I figured the people who would actually want to see this are _here_. So yeah.**

**If you've read the story before you'll notice some differences, but hopefully it adds rather than detracts!**

CHAPTER ONE: Library Weirdness_They say I'm crazy_**  
**_Got no sense  
But I don't care  
They may or may not mean offense_**  
**_But I don't care  
__You see, I'm sort of independent _**  
**_I am my own superintendent _**  
**_And my star is on the ascendent _**  
**_That's why I don't care _**  
**- "I Don't Care," Judy Garland

I opened the front door to the familiar sound of an audience laughing and applauding. My mother was watching one of those talk shows again. I don't know which one-I don't think even she pays attention to which one. She just likes having the noise in the background. Says it's a substitute for all the racket I make when I'm not at school.

"Hello, dearie," she said, looking up at me as I tossed my backpack aside and delicately placed my violin case next to me on the floor. I sat on the opposite end of the couch. My mother was going through the mail. Oh shit. Oh shit. "I heard there's another one of those Pirates of the Caribbean movies coming out, did you hear?"

"Oh," I said. "Well. Good for them." Once upon a time, I had liked them, but then stuff happened. Most of the time my excuse was that I distrusted sequels. A vague desire to become a pirate still lingered in my brain, but it was equally met by vague desires to become a musketeer, or a superhero, or anything that is less boring than my current existence.

"Don't tell me you don't like those films anymore!" Ma scoffed. "Oh, you fickle teenagers."

"Ma, I stopped liking them when I was like, twelve," I said.

"Oh. That was when-oh." We were both quiet for a while. Holy awkward silence, Batman.

"How was school?"That was the one thing I wanted to talk about less than I wanted to talk about Pirates of the Caribbean. "Oh, you know. Cardboard-flavored pizza, kids beating each other up in the hallways. Same old same old," I said, trying to keep the subject on the more extracurricular details of the school day.

"As long as you're not one of the ones getting into fights," my mother said. One time._ One time I got in a fight at school! Okay, twice, but the second time doesn't really count because it was just self-defense. "Ah, speaking of school, I'll bet this is your progress report, hmm?"_

"I think I'll be going," I said quickly, standing up. "I need to-to practice my violin. Mrs. Johnson says I've been getting sloppy and we've got that big concert in a couple of-"

"You're not going _anywhere_." She grabbed my sleeve and yanked me back down onto the couch.**  
**

"Of _course _I'm not going anywhere. This is important. School is important," I backtracked. She had opened the envelope and was looking over my grades. I braced myself for the explosion.**  
**

"An F in physics?" my mother shrieked. "What's the meanin' o' this?" Her accent was getting thicker, as it usually did when she was mad. Ma's from Ireland originally. I used to have a bit of an accent too, but I made an effort to cultivate the perfect Standard American accent after getting teased at school. It was never as bad as Ma's, though. When she yells she sounds like a pissed-off leprechaun.**  
**

There was pretty much no way I could make the F look good. "Physics...is...overrated," I said. "How much physics do I need to know, really? I wanna be a violinist. The bow goes up, ergo the bow must come down. Bam. Physics. And I didn't even need to get hit on the head with an apple to figure it out!"**  
**

"Bailey. This isn't a joke," my mother said, her voice shaking. "We discussed this before. Junior year is your most important year, in terms of colleges! This is the year of grades they look at. You promised you'd put more effort in than you have before. You're a smart girl-"**  
**

"Pfft," I said.**  
**

"Yes you are, you're a smart girl and ya know it," my mother said. "You can do so much better if you'd only get off your ass and do your work for once!"**  
**

"Hey," I said, getting a little peeved now, "I'm getting an A in history! And in English!" I love history, especially all the big dramatic battles. I dig historical literature, too, like, Shakespeare, Moby Dick, The Crucible? Heck yeah.**  
**

Last year was all contemporary literature, though. We read Jodi Picoult and _The Help_. It was rough.**  
**

"Yes, and I'm glad you are," said Ma, "but the fact remains that you focus on the things you like and blow off the rest, and you simply can't go through life that way! You'll never hold down a job or amount to anything at all!"**  
**

"Sure I will. World-famous violinist, hello?"**  
**

"Bailey, be realistic. Hardly anyone makes it as a musician-"**  
**

"Wow, thanks for that vote of confidence, Ma!" I said sarcastically. "That'll really motivate me to work hard! Yeah, my own mother has no faith in me. Super."**  
**

"I didn't mean it like that," she said.**  
**

"Yes you did."**  
**

"Regardless of your aspirations, I'm your mother and you need to listen to me when I tell you what to do," my mother said.**  
**

"There's just one problem with that, Ma." I picked up my violin case and slung the strap around me. "I don't care."**  
**

"Excuse me?" She narrowed her eyes.**  
**

"I said that I don't care." I started to sing. "I don't caaare, I don't caaaaare-" I danced out of the room and slammed the front door as I left.

* * *

After about thirty or forty paces I felt kind of silly for storming out like that, but by that point I was already almost halfway down the street, so I felt obligated to keep going. My feet moved without me really thinking about it, and before long I ended up at the library. I don't know what it was, but I got the feeling that everyone inside was staring at me, which only exacerbated my sour mood. A pinch-faced old lady glared at me as she shuffled her way to the magazines. A man with a shiny, pink bald head and a dorky sweater peered at me over the book he was reading. Even the librarian gave me a weird look as I made my way to the nonfiction section. Did I have some kind of invisible sign over my head that only adults and/or authority figures could see? "Warning: rowdy troublemaker, take care to avoid shenanigans."

It was pretty strange considering how much I don't stand out most of the time. Unless I make a whole lot of commotion, in fact, I blend right in (which is handy for eavesdropping). I'm short and small. My hair is so exceedingly difficult that I always keep it tied back, so I don't have to deal with the curly, poofy brown monstrosity. I think my eyes are too buggy, and they're gray, which is just so...blah. The rest of me, eh, not even worth commenting on.

I wandered around the nonfiction section. Nothing, from Calligraphy for Beginners to A Complete Encyclopedia of Zoology caught my eye, so I pulled a book off the shelf at random. It looked like there was something still on the shelf, behind where the book had been. I put the book down on a table and knelt down on the scratchy carpet, squinting into the dark, dusty space. I still couldn't see what it was. Reaching in, I felt around. My fingers brushed against cold, smooth metal. I pulled out it out-a ring, made out of a silvery-looking metal, with a shape I couldn't quite identify engraved on top. Even in the dim, crappy library lights, the ring shone.

The ring was too big for my pinky. My ring finger I skipped out of superstition. But on my middle finger, it fit perfectly. And that doesn't happen a lot-like the rest of me, my hands are...diminutive.**  
**

Suddenly, the ring grew hot, the way water gets hot when you're in the shower and somebody flushes the toilet. I gasped in pain, trying to pull the ring off, but it now seemed adhered to my finger. The ring burned hotter and hotter, and soon the pain wasn't as bad as the sight and sound and smell of sizzling flesh. And then, suddenly as it began, it stopped.

The ring was cold again. I slipped it off my finger. There wasn't the slightest trace of a burn, as it if had never happened. Weird.

Then the ring glowed bright, blinding white. I heard a vaguely familiar voice-although I knew I was alone, it sounded like a whisper in my ear. "A touch," it said, "of destiny."

Everything went dark. I think I fainted from weirdness overload.


	2. Jack Frickin' Sparrow

I was dimly aware that something was happening, but it was still dark, like I'd temporarily gone blind. Or maybe there just wasn't anything to see. The only thing I was sure of at the moment was that I was feeling as if something was trying to squeeze me through an extremely small space. Not painful, really, but not comfortable.

When I...I don't know if woke up is the right phrase, but when I could see things again, I was lying on my back on what felt like cobblestones. _Okay_, I thought. _I have been magically transported to downtown Portland. Stranger things have happened. _The impression that I was in Portland, Maine did not change when I saw a horse and buggy go by. Horse-and-buggy rides are sometimes a thing that happens in Portland. It was only when I saw a bunch of dudes that were clearly in eighteenth century British navy uniforms that I started getting suspicious.

"Maybe they're...historical reenactors," I said to myself. Yes. That sounded plausible. It sounded less and less plausible as I walked around and examined my surroundings a bit more. A history buff like myself could not deny it. I was no longer in the year 2010.

I was also no longer in my t-shirt and jeans. Whatever mysterious force had brought me here had also given me a change of clothes: now I was wearing an old-timey shirt, a vest, and breeches. And boots. The boots were pretty cool. I was trying to focus on the small things to avoid totally flipping out. Then, despite my efforts, I was gripped by panic. My violin! I patted my back and was relieved to find she was still there, safely in her case. (Yes, she's a she. Her name is Garland.)

In a daze, I wandered around some more. I had a horrible feeling that I knew exactly where I was, but I didn't want to admit it to myself yet. However, the evidence was too much to ignore. I heard a couple of people talking about the promotion ceremony for a Captain Norrington that was going to happen in a week. I went past a blacksmith shop that said "J. Brown." The most damning evidence of all, I saw poster that said "WANTED: JACK SPARROW. REWARD 10,001 GUINEAS."

Well, wasn't that a kick in the pants.

I guess if I had to be put into a movie, _Pirates _wasn't that bad. It could be worse. I could have been sucked into _Troll 2_, or _Titanic_, or _Marley & Me_. I had really liked it when I was younger, and there had to have been good reason for it. I was just gonna have to deal. Step one in dealing with it was going to have to be earning some money to buy food. My stomach was grumbling. Good thing I still had Garland. Sitting on a small rock wall by the edge of the street, I opened up the case, took out the violin, and laid the case on the ground. I had done a little busking before, but usually out of boredom rather than need, and obviously never in the 1700s. I thought very carefully about what song to play, trying to think of the old-ish ones I knew, and decided on one called "One-Horned Sheep."

Three people passed by without even looking at me, but the fourth dropped a coin in my case. The fifth dropped two! I'd have enough for dinner in no time. Unfortunately, at that moment, I had attracted the attention of one of the navy guys.

"Move along there, you," he snapped.

"Who, me?" I said innocently, not stopping my playing.

"Yes, you. There's _rules _about street performers, you know. You must be licensed."

"And what makes you think," I said, "that I don't have a license?"

"Well, do you?"

I stopped playing and grabbed my case, scooping out the coins. "I'll be going, then."

"That's what I thought." The navy guy looked smug. "Don't let me catch you fiddling around

here again, or there'll be consequences." I kind of wanted to punch him, but I had a feeling that was not conducive to staying out of trouble with the law.

"Don't worry about me! Model citizen, I am," I promised as I put my violin in the case and walked away. Without realizing it, I'd started speaking with an Irish accent. Lordy, even in a different universe my mother still follows me. Oh well. Might make it easier to blend in, since modern American accents didn't exist yet.

I examined the coins in my palm. They looked kinda coppery, so I guessed that they were pennies. I couldn't remember exactly what it was worth these days, but hopefully it was enough for something. I wandered around for quite a while, but by the time it was beginning to get dark I'd found a tavern called the Rowdy Rooster. I sat down on one of the stools, leaning on the bar to talk to the scary-looking guys behind it.

"Fellas, I'm famished, and I've got exactly thruppence. What can that get for me?"

"Bowl of gruel," one of them said, "aaand...some bread."

"Jolly good," I said. _Jolly good?_Something is wrong with me. "I'll have that, please." The word "gruel" sounds kinda gross, but it's really just...oatmeal. It was actually good-sweet and warm. As I ate, the warmth seemed to spread all over me. "What's in this?"

"Oatmeal," said the bartender, "water, bit o' sugar...oh, and brandy."

I choked and started coughing. My eyes watered. "Oh," I said. I'd never had alcohol before. If my mother had known, she would flip.

Cool.

* * *

I worked out a deal with the Rowdy Rooster guys. I'd play my violin for the customers, they'd give me meals. The sailors and pirates who frequented the Rooster were usually drunk and easy to please, and I had plenty of songs in my repertoire. It was fun, except for the time one guy tried to grab my ass. I may have elbowed him in the chest, and he may have squealed like a pig. But you didn't hear it from me.

As the days went by, I thought a lot about what I knew was going to happen by the docks, just a short walk away. Jack Sparrow would try to sneak onto that ship, Elizabeth would fall in the water. It was tempting to check it out and see everything happen right in front of me. Eventually I decided that if I did, I would just stroll on by. No meddling, just casual observation from a distance. I wasn't sure exactly when it would start, but on the appropriate day, I waited until about noon, strapped on Garland, and headed for the docks.

While I was looking around, I ran right into someone. It didn't hurt all that much, but the impact sent me staggering back. "Hey, watch where you're going, pal!"

"Could say the same to you," the man said irritably. I looked up. Holy balls. It was him! I had just bumped into Jack Sparrow.

_Oh no_, I thought. _He's hot._


	3. Fiddler on the Roof

It felt like my stomach transformed into a knot of live, writhing maggots. Had he always looked like this, all...ruggedly handsome and stuff? How could that slip my mind? I am usually a keen observer of such things. Then again, I'm also usually capable of speaking words, but it didn't seem to be the case at the moment. Say something, woman! Anything!

"You're Jack Sparrow!" I blurted. Oh, lord.

"Captain," he corrected. "And yes. I know. Who are you?"

"Name's Bailey Brown," I said. "Sorry about bumping into you like that."

"On the contrary, love, bumping into pretty girls is something of a hobby for me," said Jack. "No harm done. Now, if you'll excuse me." As he walked off, I gawked. Did he call me pretty? Me?Well, clearly I couldn't leave now. I tried my best to look like I was actually doing something rather than stand around staring, so I wouldn't get accused of street performance, or loitering, or unlawfully loud breathing. I took out my bow and pretended to fiddle (ha) with the tightness of the hairs. Then I heard the splash. Pretending to be startled, I put my bow away and hurried to the edge of the docks.

"Will you be saving her, then?" I heard Jack say to one of the guards.

"I can't swim!"

"Pride of the king's navy, you are." And then he jumped into the water.

"Hey!" one of the guards shouted at me, as both of them rushed off the Interceptor onto the dock. "This dock is off-limits to civilians."

"Good thing there was a civilian to dive in after the girl, though, huh?"

Jack resurfaced with Elizabeth slung over his shoulder. The guards helped him pull her onto the deck. "Ooh, I got her! She's not breathing!"

"Move!" Jack pushed guard number one out of the way and tore off Elizabeth's corset. She coughed up water and gasped for breath.

"Alright there, dearie?" I said to Elizabeth. (Oh god, I sounded like my mother.) Elizabeth nodded weakly and spat up some more water. Jack did a double-take, clearly wondering why I was still here.

"I never would have thought of that," said guard number two.

"Clearly you've never been to Singapore," said Jack. He spotted the medallion around Elizabeth's neck and picked it up, eyeing her suspiciously. "Where did you get that?"

Almost out of nowhere, Commodore Norrington and Governor Swann appeared, along with a number of other navy types. "On your feet," said Norrington, first pointing his sword at Jack, then me, then back to Jack again. Both of us stood up. Meanwhile, the Governor helped up his daughter.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine," said Elizabeth.

Guard number one was still holding Elizabeth's corset. The governor looked shocked. Guard number one pointed at Jack. "Shoot him!" Governor Swann cried.

"Father!" Elizabeth protested. "Commodore, do you really intend to kill my rescuer?"

"I believe thanks are in order," said Norrington. He offered his hand to shake, which Jack did, rather reluctantly. Norrington immediately grabbed Jack's wrist and tore open his sleeve, revealing a scar in the shape of a P. "Had a brush with the East India Trading Company, did we, pirate?"

"Hang him," said Governor Swann. He glanced at me. "Hang both of them."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, I am an entirely innocent passersby!" I protested.

"In a military harbor, in the company of a known pirate," said Norrington. "If you are so innocent, do explain what you're doing here."

"Well-"

"She's got the brand too, sir!" one of the other navy guys piped up.

"What?" I looked at my arm. Sure enough, there was P on my arm.

"Keep your guns on them, men," said Commodore Norrington. "Gillette, fetch some irons."

"Clearly, that is P for 'this is a prank,' because this scar was totally _not_ on my arm when I looked at it a minute ago," I said, a little alarmed. No one paid any attention to me. Meanwhile, Norrington had noticed the bird tattooed on Jack's wrist.

"Well, well. Jack Sparrow, isn't it?"

"Captain Jack Sparrow, if you please, sir."

"Well, I don't see your ship, Captain," Norrington said.

"I'm in the market, as it were."

"He said he'd come to commandeer one," guard number one piped up.

"Told ya he was telling the truth," said guard number two. He handed Jack's stuff to Norrington. "These are his, sir."

Norrington examined Jack's things. "No additional shots nor powder. A compass that doesn't point north." He unsheathed Jack's sword. "And I half expected it to be made of wood. You are, without a doubt, the worst pirate I've ever heard of."

"But you _have_ heard of me," said Jack. With that, both of us were put in chains.

"I don't believe I've heard of you," said Norrington, looking at me. I supposed it was his way of asking who I was.

"Bailey Brown, sir," I informed him cheerfully.

He raised an eyebrow. "You're a bailiff and I'm the queen." I was a little confused until I remembered that's what "bailey" means. It wouldn't become popular as a girl's name for, like, another two hundred and fifty years. Shit. I should have come up with a pseudonym.

"Commodore," said Elizabeth, "I really must protest. Pirate or not, this man saved my life."

"One good deed is not enough to redeem a man of a lifetime of wickedness!"

"Though it seems enough to condemn him," said Jack.

"Indeed," said Norrington.

Suddenly, Jack threw his irons around Elizabeth's neck. Governor Swann panicked. "No, don't shoot!"

"I knew you'd warm up to me," said Jack. "Commodore Norrington, my effects, please, and my hat. Commodore! Elizabeth. It is Elizabeth, isn't it?"

"It's _Miss Swann_," Elizabeth corrected.

"Miss Swann," Jack repeated, "if you'd be so kind. Come, come, dear, we don't have all day. Now if you'd be very kind." With an expression as if she'd rather eat dirt than be doing it, Elizabeth strapped on his sword and put his hat on his head. "Easy on the goods, darling."

"You're despicable," said Elizabeth coldly.

Jack merely smiled. "Sticks and stones, love. I saved your life, you save mine, we're square." He turned to face the others. "Gentleman, m'lady...you will always remember the day you almost caught Captain Jack Sparrow." He pushed Elizabeth away and escaped, swinging around and landing on a beam.

"Now will you shoot?" said Governor Swann.

"Open fire!" Norrington ordered. They did so, shooting at Jack, who, of course, dodged it all, threw his chains around a rope, and slid down to the ground. While they were preoccupied with Jack, I ran as fast as I could with my violin bonking awkwardly against my back. Ooh. That could not be good for it. I stopped running, instead scrambling up the side of a small building.


	4. Stubborn Blacksmith, Chivalrous Shark

**A/N: I forgot how much I loathe ffnet's uploading system. It screws up all the formatting uhghghgh**

I figured the best thing to do was to keep following Jack, so I made my way to the smithy. Fortunately, I arrived there the same time he did. "Are you following me?" he said suspiciously.

"I'm just trying to be where the navy is not," I said.

"Aren't we all."Jack poked Mr. Brown to see if he'd wake up. He didn't. Jack yelled "WHOA!" in his face. Mr. Brown didn't move an inch. Confident that he was dead asleep, Jack picked up a hammer.

"That's not going to work," I warned just made a face at me and went on to try to use the hammer on his irons. It, of course, did not work.

"Try that," I said, inclining my chin at the machinery powered by the donkey.

"I was going to," said Jack defensively. Picking up a metal rod with a red-hot tip (I winced but didn't say anything), he spurred the donkey, who brayed loudly and started to completely freak out. As a result, the two wheels started turning. Jack managed to break the link between his irons by placing it on the wheels. "How'd you know it wasn't going to work?" Jack demanded.

"I know many things," I said mysteriously. "It's a gift." I set the link between my own irons on the rapidly turning wheels, which immediately crushed both jumped, hearing footsteps outside the smithy. _Will_, I thought. Jack grabbed me by the wrist and yanked me into a hiding place. I gave a yelp in surprise.

"Hey! You could give me a warning before you start grabbing at me like-" I started to exclaim, but was immediately cut off when Jack slapped a grubby hand over my mouth."'Oo can 'ake 'our 'an' o' my mou' 'ow," I insisted, my words very muffled.

"I'm not taking any chances," said Jack, quietly but firmly. I wondered how he'd understood me.I managed to poke my tongue out from between my smushed lips and lick his hand. At once, he pulled his hand away, looking almost as grossed out as I felt.

"Blech. You taste _disgusting_," I said, wrinkling my nose.

"I didn't _tell _you to slobber all over me," said Jack, wiping his hand on his pants.

Meanwhile, Will was already inside the smithy. "Right where I left you," I heard him say. "Not where I left you." He reached for Jack's hat and Jack smacked him on the hand with the side of his sword.

"You're the ones they're hunting," said Will. "The pirates."

"Yep," I said cheerfully. "That's us." My cheerfulness seemed to confuse him slightly. If I recalled, a lot of things confused him.

"You seem somewhat familiar," said Jack. "Have I threatened you before?"

"I make a point of avoiding familiarity with pirates," said Will.

"Ah, well then," said Jack, "it would be a shame to put a black mark on your record. So, if you'll excuse us?" He motioned for me to follow him, but I shook my head, pointing to Will, who had now retrieved his own sword. "Do you think this is wise, boy? Crossing blades with a pirate?"

"You threatened Miss Swann," said Will.

"Only a little," said Jack. They were now getting a little more involved with the duel. "You know what you're doing," said Jack to Will. "I'll give you that. Excellent form. But how's your footwork? If I step here...very good. Now I step again. Ta." He made for the door. Once again, I didn't try to follow him, knowing what would happen. Sure enough, Will's sword landed in the door. Jack tried to pull it out, despite my telling him that it wouldn't work, and was unsuccessful. "That is a wonderful trick-except, once again, you are between me and my way out. And now you have no weapon." Will picked up a sword with the tip still heated, and they continued to fight. I watched intently-this scene had been cool in the movie, but seeing it in person just blew the movie right out of the water.

"Who makes all these?" Jack asked Will, indicating all the swords.

"He does!" I called. I couldn't resist.

"I do!" Will said, before both he and Jack gave me a strange look. "And I practice with them-three hours a day!"

"You need to find yourself a girl, mate," Jack advised. "Or perhaps the reason you practice three hours a day is that you already found one and are otherwise incapable of wooing said strumpet. You're not a eunuch, are you?"

Ignoring this, Will said, "I practice three hours a day so that when I meet a pirate, I can kill it!"

The fighting went on for several minutes until, finally, Jack lost his weapon. Taking a bag of sand, he threw it in Will's face. While Will protected his eyes, Jack took out his pistol.

"You cheated!" Will cried.

"Pirate," Jack reminded Will.

"Uh, Jack?"

"Eh?"

I pointed to the door, which was moving due to the numerous soldiers throwing themselves against it.

"Move away," Jack told Will.

"No."

He tried a different tack. "_Please _move?"

"No! I cannot just step aside and let you escape."

"This shot is not meant for you," said Jack. I gasped. "What?" He turned around just in time to see the now conscious Mr. Brown conk him on the head with a near-empty bottle of alcohol. "Oh, that's what," Jack slurred, and fell to the floor, unconscious. I winced. Mr. Brown approached me with the alcohol bottle, now only a shattered bit of glass, raised up again. I hastily put my hands up in surrender.

Norrington's men finally broke down the door. "There they are! Over here."

"Excellent work, Mr. Brown," said Norrington. "You've assisted in the capture of a dangerous fugitive." He eyed me. "And a half." I glared at him.

"Just doing my civic duty, sir," Mr. Brown said thickly.

"Well, I trust you will always remember this as the day that Captain Jack Sparrow _almost _escaped," said Norrington. "Take them away."

* * *

After removing the irons from our wrists, the soldiers dumped the unconscious Jack into the cell and left me sitting on the cold, slimy floor of the cell, promising to return in the morning to retrieve us in the morning for our appointments with the gallows.

"Any chance I could reschedule said appointment? I'm not sure if tomorrow's really good for me," I called back, but they were long gone. I sighed and scooted backwards so that my back was against the wall and drew my legs up to my chest, wrapping my arms around my knees. For a moment I just sat there, feeling incredibly was , I got an idea that would solve all my problems. Well, not all my problems, since there was still the possibility of getting hanged tomorrow, but it would solve the boredom and the quiet. Taking a deep breath, I started singing at the top of my lungs.

_"Most chivalrous fish of the ocean_**  
**_To ladies forbearing and mild_**  
**_Though his record be dark_**  
**_is the man-eating shark_**  
**_Who will eat neither woman nor child."_

"Oy! Wench! Shut it!" one of the men in the cell next to us yelled. I paid no mind to him.

_"He dines upon seamen and skippers,_**  
**_And tourists his hunger assuage,_**  
**_And a fresh cabin boy_**  
**_Will inspire him with joy_**  
**_If he's past the maturity age."_

"Shut yer bloody trap!"

"Why in 'ell's she singing?"

"Mad, I suppose."

There were several more verses telling of the time this chivalrous shark rescued a lady. She had been drowning, you see. Jack's saving Elizabeth was what brought the song to mind.

_"Then he raised on his flipper_**  
**_and ate up the skipper_**  
**_And went on his way with a smile._**  
**_And this shows that the prince of the ocean,_**  
**_To ladies forbearing and mild,_**  
**_Though his record be dark_**  
**_Is the man-eating shark,_**  
**_Who will eat neither woman nor child."_

Finally, I came to the end of the song. I stood up, bowing. "Thank you, thank you! You've been a wonderful audience! I'll be here 'til Thursday!"

"Definitely mad," another man said fervently.

I started singing "Drunken Sailor," but someone threw a bone at my head.

"You lot wouldn't know good entertainment from a coconut, would you?" I said sourly, rubbing my head.

"A coconut would've come in useful!" said the one who'd thrown the bone at me. "I could have thrown that at you, as well."

I decided to check on Jack, crawling over to him and kneeling beside him. Experimentally, I leaned a bit closer and prodded him in the shoulder. He didn't move. I poked him again. Nothing. I poked him a third time. This time, he reached up and swatted my hand away. "Stoppit."

**A/N: "Rhyme of the Chivalrous Shark" is a real song; I'd link to it, but alas, links aren't allowed. You can find the lyrics and a midi file of the tune easily enough if you google it, though.**

**It was written in 1904, but eh, when you've already got a character that walks around spouting Jim Carrey references, what's another anachronism into the mix, really?**

**A/N/N: In case you were wondering if you missed something, no, she has not actually made any references to Mr. Carrey or any of his films. That was just an example.**


	5. Agreed, Agreed, Agreed

Once again, I was sitting up against the dingy wall of the prison cell, hugging my knees. A couple of fellow prisoners in another cell were pressed up against the bars, waving a bone at the cute little prison dog, hoping to get the keys it held in its jaws. "Come here, boy. Want a nice juicy bone? Come here. Come on!" I was horrified to realize they were talking to a dog, which is why I was up against the wall.

I'd never, ever, ever, ever admit it, but dogs scare the shit out of me.

"You can keep doing that forever-the dog is never going to move," said god for small favors, I thought.

"Oh, excuse us if we haven't resigned ourselves to the gallows just yet," one of the prisoners said.

He smiled, revealing a number of gold teeth, and leaned his head back against the wall. He noticed me cowering. "What's the matter with you? Are you scared of that little thing?"

"No," I said defensively. "I just...don't like dogs very much."

He chuckled. "Don't worry, love. I'll protect you from the big bad doggy."

"My hero," I said, pretending to swoon. That was a mistake. I wrapped my arms more tightly around my knees. It was far from warm in the jail cell.

"You're shivering," Jack observed. "Are you cold?"

"A little.""I know one way of keeping warm." Jack patted the spot of ground nearest him. I just laughed. And laughed.

"Do you always try this hard, or is it just because we're supposed to die tomorrow?"

"I don't have to try. You've been gawking at me all day."

"Have not!"

"Have too. It's nothing to be ashamed of, love."

"What's nothing to be ashamed of?"

"The fact that you can't resist me," said Jack, inching closer to me. I held my breath, and not just because he stank. Luckily, at that moment, a bunch of cannons fired somewhere nearby, redirecting Jack's attention to the window and leaving me to ponder my options.

_Don't do it, a little voice in my head warned me. __He's a total skirt-chaser! He might have herpes or something._

_Who cares? This is Jack Sparrow __we're talking about, another voice retorted._

_Who cares? __We can't throw caution to the wind just 'cause he's hot. That's how you get diseases!_

_He's not just hot, the second voice insisted__, he's re-he-heeaallly hot. Come oooonnn._

"Shut up, both of you," I muttered, smacking my head with both hands.

"I know those guns," said Jack, looking out the window. "It's the _Pearl!" He said the last word lovingly, almost reverently._

"The Black Pearl?" said one of the other prisoners. "I've heard stories. She's been preying on ships and settlements for near ten years. Never leaves any survivors."

"No survivors?" Jack repeated, looking amused. "Then where do the stories come from, I wonder?"

"Sea turtles," I suggested. Suddenly, a hole was blasted in the back of the next cell.

"My sympathies, friends," said the prisoner in the next cell. "You've no manner of luck at all."

Jack now crawled toward the front of the cell, picked up the bone, and started dangling it through the bars. He whistled at the dog."Come on, doggy. It's just you and me and her now. It's just you and ol' Jack and Bailey. Come on. Come on, good boy. That a good boy, come on! Bit closer, bit closer. That's it, that's it, doggy. Come on, you filthy, slimy, mangy cur."

The dog ran away. I snickered. A thought occurred to me, and I decided to voice it, scooting up to the front of the cell, next to Jack, who was gripping the bars, obviously quite frustrated.

"If that is any indication of your powers of persuasion," I said teasingly into his ear, "then you'll never get so much as a peck on the cheek from me!"

He acted at first like he hadn't even heard me, calling after the dog, "No, no, no, no, no, I didn't mean it! I didn't..." Jack then glanced at me, the expression on his face as though accepting what I had said as a challenge.

With a crash, the prison guard was thrown down the stairs. Two pirates appeared. One of them looked around. "This ain't the armory."

"Well spotted!" I told him cheerily. "I congratulate your powers of observation."

"Well, well, well," said the other one. "Look what we have here, Twigg. Captain Jack Sparrow."

The one named Twigg spat on the floor. I wrinkled my nose. "Last time I saw you," said Twigg to Jack, "you were all alone on a godforsaken island, shrinking into the distance." To the one that was not named Twigg, he said, "His fortunes ain't improved much."

"Worry about your own fortunes, gentlemen," said Jack darkly. "The deepest circle of Hell is reserved for betrayers and mutineers." At this, Not-Twigg made a grab for Jack's throat. In the moonlight, his arm turned skeletal."So there is a curse," Jack said, rather casually, as if making an observation about the weather. "That's interesting."

"You know nothing of Hell," said Not-Twigg. Thankfully, he and Twigg left."That's very interesting," Jack said thoughtfully.

* * *

Jack sat at the front of the cell, attempting to pick the lock with the bone. "Oy, Bailey," he said suddenly, turning around to look at me.

"Yeah?" I said, sitting up.

**"**You claim to know things, correct?"

"Mmmhmmm," I said.

"When, exactly, will we be getting out of here?"

"Soon," I replied. "Very soon. Any minute."

Just then, footsteps could be heard coming toward the cell. Jack threw the bone aside and laid on the floor, pretending to be asleep or something.

Will approached the cell. "You. Sparrow, Brown!"

"Aye," said Jack.

"'Sup?" I added, leaning back on the heels of my hands.

"You are familiar with that ship? The Black Pearl?"

"I've heard of it," said Jack.

"Where does it make berth?"

"Where does it make berth?" Jack repeated. "Have you not heard the stories? '_Captain_' Barbossa and his crew of miscreants sail from the dreaded Isla de Muerta. It's an island that cannot be found except by those who already know where it is."

"I think that could be said of any island, really," I said.

"The ship's real enough. Therefore, its anchorage must be a real place. Where is it?"

Jack studied his nails. "Why ask us?"

"Because you're pirates."

"And you want to turn pirate yourself, is that it?"

Will grabbed one of the bars melodramatically. "_Never_. They took Miss Swann."

"Oh, so it _is_ that you've found a girl. I see. Well, if you're intending to brave all, hasten to her rescue, and so win fair lady's heart, you'll have to do it alone, mate. I see no profit in it for me."

Will looked at me. "If you can convince him, I'm in," I said.

"I can get you out of here."

"How's that? The key's run off," said Jack.

"I helped build these cells. These are half pin-barrel hinges," said Will. He picked up a bench and placed it at the bottom of the cell. "With the right leverage and the proper application of strength, the door will lift free."

"You know weird things, mate," I told him.

"Says the lass who knows all the verses to a song about a chivalrous shark," Jack said wryly.

"You heard me singing?"

"Yes, I heard you," said Jack. "It was you that woke me up. I believe there may be a few people in Singapore who didn't hear you."

"Ha ha."

To Will, he said, "What's your name?"

Will started to answer, but I held up a hand. "Hold it. Lemme guess. You look like...a _Will_," I said, as if I were guessing. I was definitely going to have fun with this knowing-things deal.

"Er...yes," said Will, looking bewildered. "Will Turner. How'd you know?

""I just _know _things," I told him.

"That will be short for William, I imagine. Good, strong name. No doubt named for your father, eh?" said Jack.**  
****  
**"Yes," said Will.

"Uh-huh. Well, Mr. Turner, I've changed me mind. If you spring me-" I cleared my throat. "_And _dear Bailey," Jack added, "from this cell, I swear on pain of death I shall take you to the Black Pearl and your bonny lass."

"And I'll help too," I chimed in.

"Do we have an accord?"

They shook hands. Then I shook hands with Will. Then I shook hands with Jack (which made my hand feel oddly tingly).

"Agreed," said Will.

"Agreed," I said.

"Agreed. Get us out."

Will lifted the door free. "Hurry. Someone might have heard that."

"Not without my effects," said Jack, going to get his hat and sword. I followed him, looking for my violin. Jack found her first and handed her to me.**  
**  
"Thanks," I said. I hugged the violin to my chest and told her, "Ah, I've missed you, my sweet babboo."


	6. Interceptor Intercepted

The three of us crept sneakily under a small stone bridge. "We're going to steal the ship," said Will, although it was more like a question than a statement. "That ship?" He looked at the Dauntless.

"Commandeer," Jack corrected. "We're going to commandeer that ship. Nautical term."

"And it sounds cooler," I added.

"One question about your business, boy, or there's no use going," said Jack. "This girl-how far are you willing to go to save her?"

"I'd die for her," said Will."

"Oh, good. No worries, then," said Jack. He explained the plan. "Will this one work, O mighty prophetess?"

I nodded.

Within moments, Jack and Will were carrying a boat underneath the water. Since I was so dwarfed by comparison and therefore was incapable of both walking on the sea floor and being within the bubble of air, I was clinging for dear life to the top of the boat, at the same time trying to keep my violin case from getting wet.

"This is either madness or brilliance," said Will.

"It's remarkable how often those traits coincide," said Jack.

"I'll have to go with madness right now," I said.

Soon-but not nearly soon enough, for me-we boarded the Dauntless.

"Everyone stay calm!" said Jack. "We are taking over the ship."

"Aye! Avast!" Will exclaimed.

I cringed in secondhand embarrassment, covering my face with my hands. The men that were already on the ship burst out laughing.

"This ship cannot be crewed by two men and a woman," said the guy called Gillette scathingly.

Jack took out his pistol and pointed it at Gillette's nose. "Son, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow. Savvy?" The Navy guys immediately scrambled into one of the boats and took off. Shortly afterward, we could hear Gillette screaming to the others about how we'd taken over the ship.

"Here they come," said Will, seeing the Interceptor set sail. Norrington and his men boarded the ship. While they went to search "every cabin, every hold, down to the bilges," Jack, Will, and I swung onto the Interceptor. (It took me a few tries.)

"Quickly, men!" one of Norrington's people cried, but it was too late. The few that did try to swing over ended up falling in the water.

"Thank you, Commodore, for getting us ready to make way," Jack called, waving. "We'd have had a hard time of it ourselves."

* * *

Leaning against the rail, I was doing my best to comb through my hair with my fingers. Back in the year 2010, I was usually able to somewhat manage my stupid hair by carefully blowdrying it and then shoving it back into a ponytail. Here, though-the humidity had been bad enough, but now that my hair had been soaked in seawater, it was a tangly matted mess. The elastic I'd used to put it in a ponytail was stuck. As chunks of hair began to dry, it got all frizzy and started inflating back to its normal poofiness and then some. This was unacceptable hair behavior.

Jack was watching me struggle. And chuckling. "Don't laugh at me!" I said, glaring at him. "I am in serious hair turmoil."

"Why fight it? Embrace the turmoil," Jack suggested, patting his own tangly, partially locked hair.

Meanwhile, Will was sharpening his sword. "When I was a lad living in England, my mother raised me by herself. After she died, I came out here looking for my father," he said as he sharpened.

"Is that so?" said Jack.

"My father, Will Turner. At the jail, it was only after you learned my name that you agreed to help. Since that's what I wanted, I didn't press the matter. I'm not a simpleton, Jack." I snorted. "You knew my father."

"I knew him. Probably one of the few who knew him as William Turner. Everyone else just called him Bootstrap or Bootstrap Bill."

"Bootstrap?" Will repeated.

"Good man," said Jack. "Good pirate. I swear you look just like him."

"It's not true. He was a merchant sailor. A respectable man who obeyed the law." I snorted again. "Do you have something to say, Bailey?"

"No, no, don't mind me," I said, waving my hand.

"He was a bloody pirate, a scallywag," said Jack.

"My father was not a pirate." Will took out his sword.

"Put it away, son. It's not worth you getting beat again."

"You didn't beat me. You ignored the rules of engagement. In a fair fight, I'd have killed you."

"Then that's not much incentive for me to fight fair, then, is it?" Jack moved one of the sails so that the yard caught Will and swung him out over the sea. "Now, as long as you're just hanging there, pay attention. The only rules that really matter are these-what a man can do and what a man can't do. For instance, you can accept that your father was a pirate and a good man or you can't. But pirate is in your blood, boy, so you'll have to square with that someday. Now, me. I can let you drown, but something tells me Bailey doesn't know port from starboard-"

"I do so!" I protested.

"-and I can't bring this ship into Tortuga all on me onesy, savvy? So?" Jack swung Will back on board and gave back his sword. "Can you sail under the command of a pirate? Or can you not?"

Will took the sword. "Tortuga?"

"Tortuga."

* * *

"More importantly, it is indeed a sad life that has never breathed this sweet, proliferous bouquet that is Tortuga, savvy?" Jack declared. "What do you think?"

"It'll linger," said Will distastefully.

"I wouldn't say sweet nor proliferous," I said, my voice a bit nasally due to the fact that I was holding my nose, "but it is definitely a bouquet. I'm thinking somewhere along the lines of dead skunk and horse manure..."

"I tell you, mate, if every town in the world were like this one, no man would ever feel unwanted," Jack said to Will. To me, he said, "Unfortunately, every man here shares that mindset, so you'd do best to stay close, love."

A redheaded woman came up to us. "Scarlett!" Jack exclaimed. She slapped him hard across the face and stormed off.

"No man would ever feel unwanted, eh?" I said, snickering.

"I don't think I deserved that," said Jack, holding his face. By now, a blond woman had arrived. "Giselle!"

"'Oo was she?" she yelled.

"What?"

She, too, slapped Jack in the face.

"I may have deserved that," said Jack, his voice slightly muffled by the way his hands were covering his face.

Jack led us into a pigpen, where Mr. Gibbs lay sleeping and covered in mud. He threw a bucket of water onto Gibbs, who woke up with a start.

"Curse you for breathing, you slack-jawed idiot!" he yelled, brandishing a dagger, before realizing who he was talking to. "Mother's love! Jack! You should know better to wake a man when he's sleeping. 'S bad luck."

"Ah, fortunately, I know how to counter it. The man who did the waking buys the man who was sleeping a drink. The man who was sleeping drinks it while listening to a proposition from the man who did the waking."

It took Gibbs a minute to figure it out."Aye, that'll about do it," he said. At that point, Will dumped a second bucket of water on Gibbs. "Blast! I'm already awake!"

"That was for the smell," Will explained.

Now that we had Mr. Gibbs, we all went to a tavern. "Keep a sharp eye," Jack instructed Will. He then went to sit at a table with Mr. Gibbs. I sat down at the table next to them, thinking I might play something. I got out my bow and started rosining it.

"Now, what's the nature of this venture of yourn?"

"I'm going after the Black Pearl," said Jack. Mr. Gibbs nearly choked on his drink. "I know where it's going to be, and I'm going to take it."

"Jack, it's a fool's errand. Why, you know better than me the tales of the Black Pearl!" Gibbs protested.

"That's why I know what Barbossa is up to. All I need is a crew."

"From what I hear of Captain Barbossa," said Mr. Gibbs, "he's not a man to suffer fools, nor strike a bargain with one."

"Well then, I'd say it's a very good thing I'm not a fool then, eh?"

"Prove me wrong," said Gibbs. "What makes ye think Barbossa will give his ship up to you?"

"Let's just say it's a matter of leverage, eh?" He nodded in Will's direction. When Gibbs didn't follow, Jack widened his eyes slightly and jerked his head toward Will.

"The girl?"

Jack shook his head, exasperated, and jerked his head toward Will again. If he went on like that his head was going to come off.

"The kid?"

Finally, Gibbs was getting it.

"That is the child of Bootstrap Bill Turner. His only child, savvy?"

"Is he, now? Leverage, says you. I think I feel a change in the wind, says I. I'll find us a crew. There's bound to be some sailors on this rock crazy as you."

"One can only hope," said Jack. "Take what you can."

"Give nothing back."

They clinked their tankards and drained the contents. I started playing "Jackaroe."

"Hey, you're not bad," said Jack, looking over.

"Oh, thanks for that high praise," I said. "Do you play anything?"

"The guitar. A little," he said. "Occasionally. Before."

A little ways away from us, there was a very drunk man with a guitar who happened to be passed out. I went over and borrowed it. "Here! Let's play something."

"Alright," said Jack, with a smile, "what do you recommend?" He picked up the guitar and started messing with the strings.

"Um," I said. "Do you know 'We Be Three Poor Mariners'?"

He did, and we played it, and several more songs. Will and Gibbs watched and occasionally suggested new ones. None of them, however, had heard of one of my very favorite sea songs.

"You'll like this one, it's a good one! It's called 'the Drunken Sailor.'" Jack and Gibbs looked a little uncomfortable when I got to the part about "shave his belly with a rusty razor."

**A/N: The part about Jack playing the guitar is totally made up, but I thought it was a reasonable conclusion, since Johnny Depp based him partly on Keith Richards. And then Keith Richards played Jack's dad and had a scene where he played a guitar. So, yeah.**


	7. A New Friend and an Old Fiend

The next morning, Gibbs had rounded up all the sailors he could find and lined them up for Jack to inspect. "Feast your eyes, Captain. All of them, faithful hands before the mast, every man worth his salt. And crazy to boot."

"This is your able-bodied crew?" Will sounded skeptical. Jack stopped pacing to address one man in particular, an older man with a bandanna on his head and a blue and yellow parrot on his shoulder. "You, sailor!"

"Cotton, sir," said Mr. Gibbs.

"Mr. Cotton? Do you have the courage and fortitude to follow orders and stay true in the face of danger and almost certain death?" Jack demanded. "Mr. Cotton? Answer, man!"

"He's a mute, sir. Poor devil had his tongue cut out, so he trained the parrot to talk for him. No one's yet figured how," said Mr. Gibbs.

Jack considered this. "Mr. Cotton's...parrot. Same question."

The parrot squawked. "Wind in the sails! Wind in the sails!"

"Mostly, we figure, that means 'yes,'" Mr. Gibbs explained.

"'Course it does," said Jack. To Will, he said, "Satisfied?"

"Well, you've proved they're mad."

"And what's the benefit for us?" someone demanded.

Jack went over to them and took off their hat, revealing an olive-skinned woman with shoulder-length, wavy dark hair. "Anamaria." She slapped him. What was with him and getting slapped?

"I suppose you didn't deserve that one, either," said Will.

"No, that one I deserved," said Jack, wincing. Anamaria nodded with a sarcastic smile, as if to say, _No shit._

"You _stole...my...boat_!" she shouted.

"Actually-" She slapped him again. "Borrowed. Borrowed without permission. But with every intention of bringing it back to you."

"But you _didn't_!"

"You'll get another one."

"I _will_," said Anamaria, pointing a finger at him threateningly.

"A better one," said Will.

"A better one!" Jack echoed, smiling at her in a very sucking-up kind of way.

"That one."

"What one? That one!? Aye, that one," said Jack, going through three different emotions in the same amount of seconds. "What say you?"

Anamaria thought about it and shouted, "Aye!" The rest of the crew joined in. "Aye!"

"Anchors aweigh," said Cotton's parrot.

The new crew made to board the Interceptor. Anamaria jammed her hat back on her head, glared at Jack, and sped after them.

"No, no, no, no, no, it's frightful bad luck to bring a woman aboard, sir. One is bad enough," Mr. Gibbs said, glancing at me, "but two-"

"It'd be far worse not to have them," said Jack.

At that moment, I spotted Anamaria walking up ahead of everyone else and ran to catch up with her. They hadn't really shown much of Anamaria in the movies, so I wanted to try and get to know her. "Hey, you. You're cool."

She raised an eyebrow. "Thank you. I think."

"Sorry, forgot my manners. Bailey Brown," I introduced myself, extending my shook it.

"Anamaria."

"That was really something back there," I told her as we walked. "I've never seen anyone else scare Jack so badly."

She grinned. "Clearly you haven't known him long enough. It's not really that hard."

* * *

"Dead men tell no tales," Cotton's parrot croaked.

"Lovely singing, mate," I told it.

Everyone was looking, horrified, at the wrecks strewn all throughout the water. "Puts a chill in the bones, how many honest sailors have been claimed by this passage." Gibbs gave me a wary look, as if just by being here I'd suddenly doom them all.

"Kindly stop looking at me like that, Mr. Gibbs," I told him. "If anybody gives us bad luck, it'll be you, with all your talk about it."

"How is it that Jack came by that compass?" Will asked.

"Not a lot's known about Jack Sparrow before he showed up in Tortuga with a mind to go after the treasure of Isla de Muerta. That was before I met him, before he was Captain of the Black Pearl."

"What?" said Will. "He failed to mention that."

"Well, he plays things closer to the vest now. And a hard learned lesson it was," said Gibbs. I stared at my feet. I didn't know how many times I'd heard this, what with all the times I'd watched the movies, but I'd never felt quite as bad for Jack as I did now. "See, three days out on the venture, the first mate comes to him and says everything's an equal share. That should mean the location of the treasure, too, so Jack gives up the bearings. That night there was a mutiny. They marooned Jack on an island and left him to die, but not before he'd gone mad with the heat."

"Ah," said Will. "So that's the reason for all the-" He imitated Jack's swaggering demeanor. I giggled.

"Reason's got nothing to do with it. Now, Will, when a man is marooned, he is given a pistol with a single shot-one shot."

"Yes, that's what single means, isn't it?" I said. Gibbs glared at me, as if daring me to interrupt his story again.

"Well, it won't do much hunting or to be rescued," he continued. "But after three weeks of a starvin' belly and thirst, that pistol will start to look real friendly. But Jack-he escaped the island, and he still has that one shot. Ah, but he won't use it, though, save for one man. His mutinous first mate."

"Barbossa," Will guessed.

"Aye."

"How did Jack get off the island?"

"He's Jack, that's how," I piped up again.

"I'll tell ye," said Gibbs, ignoring me. "He waded out into the shallows and there he waited three days and three nights, 'til all manner of sea creatures came and acclimated to his presence. And on the fourth morning-"

"Sea turtles!" I blurted. Gibbs glared at me again. Whoops. "What? It's true. He roped a couple of 'em together, made a raft."

"He made a raft out of a couple of sea turtles?" Will repeated dubiously. "What did he use for rope?"

"Human hair," said Jack, appearing almost from nowhere. By now, Mr. Gibbs looked quite peeved at having his story hijacked. "From my back."

I grimaced. "You must have one hairy back."

"You have no idea," said Jack. Then he yelled to the rest of the crew. "Let go of the anchor!"

"Let go of the anchor!" they yelled back, doing so.

"Young Mr. Turner and I are to go ashore," said Jack to Gibbs.

"Captain! What if the worst is to happen?"

"Keep to the code."

"Aye, the code."

"What about me?" I said.

"What about you?" said Jack.

"I'm coming, aren't I?"

**"**It's going to be dangerous. You don't have a sword. Do you even know how to use a sword?"

"I promised I'd come," I insisted. "I don't care that it's dangerous. I'm not a delicate flower!"

"I didn't say you were," Jack said. "All right. If you insist."

The little row boat was hoisted up and lowered just enough so that we could get in. Jack made to climb in first, then thought better of it and stood aside to let me go first. "After you," he said politely. I beamed at him and climbed in. Will tried to climb in next, but Jack pushed past him. Ha ha.

For quite some time we all sat in silence. I wondered what they were thinking about. It'd be awfully funny if each of us were wondering what the others were being quiet, but something told me that wasn't the case. Will, I knew, had to be thinking about Elizabeth. Jack, on the other hand, was a mystery, and he probably made it that way on purpose.

"What code is Gibbs to keep if the worst should happen?" said Will finally.

"Pirate's Code," said Jack.

"Any man that falls behind is left behind," I added. "Or woman, as the case may be."

"No heroes among thieves, eh?"

"You know, for having such a bleak outlook on pirates, you're well on your way to become one," said Jack. "Sprung a man and woman from jail, commandeered a ship of the Fleet, sailed with a buccaneer crew out of Tortuga-and you're completely obsessed with treasure."

"That's not true. I am not obsessed with treasure."

"Denial," I said mock-accusingly, snickering.

"I'm not in denial."

"That's what all people in denial say."

"Not all treasure is silver and gold, mate," Jack told boat slid to a halt.

"Gentlemen, the time has come! Our salvation is nigh!" Barbossa yelled to the crowd of pirates around him. "Our torment is near at end!"

"Elizabeth," Will whispered.

"You'll have her back soon," I assured him.

"For ten years we've been tested and tried, and each man jack of you here has proved his mettle a hundred times over and a hundred times again!"

Barbossa's crew cheered. "Suffered, I have," Ragetti wailed.

"Punished, we were," Barbossa continued. "The lot of us-disproportionate to our crimes! Here it is." He threw the lid off the chest. "The cursed treasure of Cortes himself. Every last piece that went astray, we have returned, save for this." He pointed to the medallion around Elizabeth's neck.

Will started scrambling up. "Jack!"

Jack grabbed him and pulled him down. "Not yet. We wait for the opportune moment."

"When's that?" Will asked Jack. "When it's of greatest profit to you?"

"May I ask you something?" said Jack. "Have I ever given you reason not to trust me?"

"Um, not meaning to be unhelpful here, but we pretty much just waltzed into the smithy where he worked and said, 'Hey, we're pirates,' so yeah, I think you may have," I said. Jack gave me a look like he wanted to slap his hand over my mouth again.

"Do us a favor?" he said to Will. "I know it's difficult for you, but please stay here and try not to do anything stupid."

Barbossa kept on talking to his crew. Will picked up an oar and whacked Jack with it. I gasped. This was a thing that happened? Why was this a thing that happened? Will was supposed to be a good guy. "Sorry, Jack," said Will. "I'm not going to be your leverage."

I knelt beside Jack. Damn it, why couldn't I remember what happened in this part? "Come on, wake up, please don't leave me alone with all these creepy undead guys!" I whispered frantically.

After a moment, Jack slowly opened his eyes. He furrowed his brow, looking confused. "Bailey? What's happened?"

"Will hit you with the oar! Gosh, I'm glad you're okay. You are okay, right?"

"Takes a lot more than a blow to the head to take out Captain Jack Sparrow, love. Although I must say, it's touching that you care so much," he said wryly. We both managed to stand up just in time for Ragetti to notice us there.

"You!" he said to Jack.

"You're supposed to be dead!" said Pintel.

"Am I not?" said Jack, looking down at himself. "Oh." Everyone pulled out their pistols and pointed them at us. "Palulay? Palu-li-la-la-lu-lu, palili? Parsnip, paisley, par-partner, partner?"

"Parley," I whispered, poking him."Parley! That's the one. Parley! Parley!"

"Parley? Down to the depths whatever man that thought up parley!" Pintel fumed.

"That would be the French," said Jack.

"How in blazes did you get off that island?" Barbossa said.

"When you marooned me on that godforsaken spit of land, you forgot one very important thing, mate. I'm Captain Jack Sparrow."

"Ah, well. I won't be making that mistake again. Gents, you all know Captain Jack Sparrow and-er-"

"Bailey Brown," I filled in.

"And Bailey Brown," Barbossa repeated.

"I don't believe we know her," said Ragetti.

"We do," said the one that isn't Twigg, indicating himself and Twigg.

"Good enough," said Barbossa. "Kill 'em both."

"The girl's blood didn't work, did it?"

"Hold your fire!" Barbossa ordered. "You know whose blood we need?"

"We know whose blood you need."

* * *

"So you expect to leave me standing on some beach with nothing but a name and your word it's the one I need and watch you sail away in my ship?"

"No," said Jack. "I expect to leave you standing on some beach with absolutely no name at all, watching me sail away on _my _ship and then Bailey will shout the name back to you-got a set o' lungs on her, that one does." He winked at me. "Savvy?"

"I think that sounds like an understandable request, given the circumstances," I said.

"But that still leaves us with the problem of me standing on some beach with naught but a name and your word it's the one I need," said Barbossa.

"Of the two of us, I'm the only one who haven't committed mutiny; therefore my word is the word we'll be trusting. Although I suppose I should be thanking you because, in fact, if you hadn't betrayed me and left me to die, I would have had an equal share in the curse, same as you." Jack picked up one of Barbossa's apples and bit into it, then offered one to Barbossa. God, he was cool. "Funny ol' world, innit?"

One of Barbossa's crew rushed in. "Captain, we're coming up on the Interceptor." Barbossa followed him up to the deck. Jack ran after him. I followed.

"I'm having a thought here, Barbossa. What say we run up a flag of truce? I scurry over to the Interceptor and I negotiate the return of your medallion, eh? What say you to that?"

"Now that, you see, Jack, that's exactly the attitude that lost you the Pearl. People are easy to search when they're dead." To his crewmember, he said, "Lock him in the brig."

The guy dragged Jack away. I made to follow him when I felt Barbossa's hand clamp down on my shoulder. "Hold on, missy. I didn't say nothing 'bout _you _goin' down to the brig, now, did I?"

Slowly, I turned around. "You...want me to stay _here_. With _you_," I said flatly. He merely gave me a creepy, lecherous smile. Ugh. As annoying as Jack's never-ending stream of advances could be sometimes, he was infinitely preferable to an old undead guy like Barbossa. I found myself missing smelly ol' Jack. "Why would that be?" The smile merely grew wider and creepier. My suspicions were confirmed. _Don't be too harsh, _said a little voice in my brain. _He's been at sea for months. He's cursed with insatiable lust. He'd probably screw anything that walked if it would let him._"Look, uh, Barbie," I said, coming up with the nickname on the spot, "I don't mean to offend you or anything, but...um...no. Nope. Not gonna happen."

Instantly, Barbossa's smile turned into a scowl. "Lock _her _in the brig, too," he said to one of his crewmen.


	8. Violince

**A/N: Please excuse the terrible pun in the chapter title.**

* * *

Barbossa's guy shoved Jack into the brig, and then me.

"Apparently there's a leak," Jack said, but the guy ignored him and walked off.

"He's gonna get right on that."

Outside, cannons boomed, and Jack rushed to the wall, trying to look through a knothole and see what was going on.

The Pearl lurched to the left. Jack flopped back against the wall of the cell. I was knocked right off my feet, letting out a small scream. Fortunately, Jack stuck his arm out and caught me around the middle before I hit the ground.

"I fell," I said, very aware of his hand on my waist.

"So I gathered," he said.

"I'm not falling now, though," I said, as a hint for him to let go.

"Are you sure about that? You look like you might faint." He was smiling. Damn him, the smug bastard.

"I can't help it," I said melodramatically, laying the back of my hand on my forehead and sagging theatrically in his arms, "I'm just so overcome by how beauteous you are."

"Finally you admit it," said Jack wryly. A cannonball shot straight through the wall and the door of the cell, missing us by inches. "Stop blowing holes in my ship!" Jack bellowed.

"Ow. My ear, your mouth, very close, ow."

"My sincerest apologies."

Seeing that the door was open now, we hurried out and onto the deck. Some random pirate belonging to Barbossa's crew swung onto the deck. Jack took the rope from him. "Thanks very much," he said. To me he said, "Hang on."

Obediently, I wrapped my arms around him and held on tightly as he swung from the Black Pearl to the Interceptor, not letting go until I felt my feet land on the deck.

"Jack!" Mr. Gibbs exclaimed.

"Bloody empty," Jack said, handing him a canteen. Jack spotted Elizabeth. "Where's the medallion?"

"Wretch!" Elizabeth made to slap him. Jack caught her wrist.

"Ahh. Where's dear William?"

"Will? Will!"

"Elizabeth!"

"Monkey!"

Jack took after the monkey, seeing that it had the medallion, but he wasn't quick enough. The monkey gave the medallion to Barbossa. "Thank you, Jack."

"You're welcome," said Jack unhappily.

"No, not you. We named the monkeeey Jaaack," said Barbossa in that weird drawl of his.

* * *

"If any of you so much as thinks the word 'parley,' I'll have your guts for garters!" Pintel snarled. took a deep breath.

"Paaaaaarrr-" Pintel held the blade of his sword up against my throat. I merely held up my head higher so that the sword wasn't so close and calmly added, "Typooper."

At that moment, the Interceptor blew up. "You godless pirates!" Elizabeth screeched, running at him and hitting him with her fists.

"Welcome back, miss," said Barbossa. "You took advantage of our hospitality last time. It holds fair now that you return the favor." He pushed her towards the crew, who swarmed at her like ants on a baby.

Will leapt up on the deck. "Barbossa!"

"Will!" said Elizabeth.

Will pointed a pistol at Barbossa. "She goes free."

"What's in your head, boy?"

"She goes free!"

"You've only got one shot, and we can't die," Barbossa pointed out.

"Don't do anything stupid," Jack pleaded, his hands held together as if in prayer.

"You can't," said Will to Barbossa. "I can." He pointed the gun at his own throat.

"Like that," said Jack, grimacing.

"I don't think he's capable of not doing stupid things. There's some quota of stupid things that he has to fill each day, or else he can't sleep at night," I said.

"Who are you?" Barbossa demanded.

"No one. He's no one," Jack said quickly. "A distant cousin of my aunt's nephew twice removed. Lovely singing voice, though - eunuch."

"My name is Will Turner. My father was Bootstrap Bill Turner. His blood runs in my veins."

"He's the spitting image of ol' Bootstrap Bill come back to haunt us!" Ragetti said fearfully.

"On my word, do as I say, or I'll pull this trigger and be lost to Davy Jones's Locker," Will threatened.

"Name your terms, Mr. Turner."

"Elizabeth goes free."

"Yes, we know that one," said Barbossa dryly. "Anything else?"

Jack pointed frantically at himself. I looked pleadingly at Will.

"Bailey goes free, too," Will said. I grinned and mouthed 'thanks'. "And the crew - the crew is not to be harmed."

"Agreed," said Barbossa. And then they set up the plank, propped on the railing of the ship. Elizabeth was the first to be forced onto it.

"Go on, poppet, go! Walk the plank!"

"Barbossa, you lying bastard!" Will yelled. "You swore she'd go free!"

"Don't you dare impugn me honor, boy. I agreed she'd go free, but it was you who failed to specify when or where." A couple of pirates came and gagged Will. "Though it does seem a shame to lose something so fine, don't it, lads?"

"Aye!" his crew agreed.

"So I'll be having that dress back before you go."

Elizabeth took it off and threw at him. Barbossa's crew hooted and hollered. "It goes with your black heart," she said scathingly. Barbossa pressed it to his face.

"Oooh, it's still warm," he said.

"Bet that's the closest thing you've had to holding an actual girl in quite some time, eh, Barbs?" I said jeeringly.

His eyes narrowed. "You're next for the plank, missy."

"Off you go!" said one of Barbossa's men. "Come on!"

"Too long!" complained another. He shook the plank, and Elizabeth fell into the water with a scream.

One of the pirates grabbed me by my violin case, hoisting me right off my feet. The straps dug painfully into my armpits. "Hey, get your grimy hands off! Let me go!" My arms slipped out of the case straps and I dropped to my feet, but now the dude had my violin.

"This'll fetch a pretty penny!"

"Give it back!"

Somebody else grabbed the violin from the first pirate, took it out of the case, and smashed it against the rail, laughing at my reaction. I lunged at the guy but he just shoved me back. All the cursed pirates were laughing. I'd never felt this small and helpless. So angry I was shaking, I jumped into the water. I swum back up to the surface and started swimming toward the island. I swore to myself that I would learn how to fight, so that nobody could mess with me like that again.


	9. Stories and Songs

Jack stared back at the Pearl as we all waded out of the shallows onto the beach. "That's the second time I've had watch that man sail away with my ship," he said miserably.

"At least your ship is still intact," I said. I was not going to cry. Nope. Totally was not. "My poor fiddle has ceased to be. It is an ex-fiddle." Yeah, I was crying. I had to be the worst pirate ever. I rubbed my eyes with my knuckles, trying to get myself to stop crying. I felt a hand on my arm and was surprised to see Elizabeth looking at me sympathetically.

"We'll get off this island," she said firmly, "and when we do, we'll make them pay for what they've done to us." She sounded confident. It was heartening.

"Yeah!" I exclaimed. "They won't know what hit 'em. We'll whoop them so hard their _grandparents_ feel it."

Jack snorted as he plopped down on the sand and took off his boots. "Highly doubtful." He hopped up and took off further into the island. Elizabeth strode after him, and I followed her.

"But you were marooned on this island before, weren't you, Jack? So we can escape in the same way you did then."

"To what point and what purpose, young missy?" Jack demanded. "The Black Pearl is gone, and unless you have a rudder and a lot of sails hidden in that bodice..._unlikely_... young Mr. Turner will be dead long before you can reach him." Jack went and knocked on a tree trunk, then took four enormous steps and started jumping up and down.

"But you're Captain Jack Sparrow," Elizabeth protested. "You vanished from under the eyes of seven agents of the East India Company. You sacked Nassau Port without even firing a shot. Are you the pirate I've read about or not? How did you escape last time?"

"Last time, I was here a grand total of three days, all right? Last time-" Jack opened up a cellar door and climbed inside. "The rumrunners used this island as a cache. Came by, and I was able to barter a passage off. From the looks of it, they've long been out of business. Probably have your bloody friend Norrington to thank for that." He climbed out, three bottles of rum in his hands.

"That's it, then?" Elizabeth said, incredulous. "That's the grand secret of the infamous Jack Sparrow? You spent three days _lying on a beach, drinking rum_?"

"Welcome to the Caribbean, love," Jack said, handing her a bottle. He handed the second one to me. I took a huge gulp and almost choked on it; it burned my throat.

"Holy shit, how do you drink this stuff?" I said, coughing. "It's like drinking peroxide." No one ever mentions this in the movies. Jack just looked amused.

We found a nice shady spot and the three of us plunked down. For a while we just sat there. I felt obligated to break the silence. "Hey, let's play a game!" I suggested.

"All right."

"What do you have in mind?"

"How about..." I thought. "The three word story game! We take turns telling a story in three-word chunks. Like, for an example, one person says, 'There was a,' and the next person says, 'poisonous toad named,' and the third says 'Ted the toad.' And so on. It's fun!"

So we did. And it was. Here is some of what we came up with-Liz's contributions are denoted in parentheses, and Jack's in brackets.

_(There was once) a pirate named [Captain Jack Sparrow]. (He smelled like) really bad eggs. [He didn't like] (bathing, or soap). All the girls [swooned over him] (because the stench) knocked them unconscious._

"I don't like this story!" Jack said crossly.

"Alright, alright, calm down, we'll start over and be nice," I said.

_(There was a) fearsome and unoffensively-scented [pirate named Jack] (and a musician) named Bailey, whose [voice is louder] (than a trumpet), and the governor's [spawn, known as] (Elizabeth. Miss Swann), if you're nasty. [They were on] (a quest for) the philosopher's stone!_

* * *

"We're devils and black sheep and really bad eggs! Drink up, me hearties, yo ho! Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me!"

The three of us were singing and dancing around the fire we'd built.

"I love this song! Really.._.bad eggs_! Oooh." Jack fell on the ground with a thump. "When I get the Pearl back, I'm gonna teach it to the whole crew. And we'll sing it all the time!"

"Yes! Singing! I like singing!" I stumbled and fell, bumping into Jack as I landed. "Haha, whoops! Sorry!"

"Don't be," said Jack, smiling at me and slinging an arm around my shoulders.

"And you'll be positively the most fearsome pirate in the Spanish main," said Elizabeth.

Jack said, "Not just the Spanish Main, love. The entire ocean. The entire world. Wherever we want to go, we'll go." He paused and continued, apparently to both of us. "That's what a ship is, you know. It's not just a keel and a hull and a deck and sails. That's what a ship needs, but what a ship is - what the Black Pearl is - is freedom."

"That's like...like a poem," I said. "No, that's not the right word. But it's pretty. That's kind of how I feel about my violin, y'know? My mother has all these ideas about what she wants me to do, she thinks I need to be more _responsible_-" I said the word the way some people would say 'covered in dog poop.' "But with my violin I could go anywhere! Do anything. Just wander around playing music for people and gettin' paid for it. Garland's my freedom, just like the Pearl is for you." And then I remembered what they'd done. "Or she was my freedom."

"I'm sorry about what they did to your fiddle, darling, I really am," Jack told me seriously. Then he brightened. "I'll get you a new one! I know it won't be the same, but a professional like yourself simply can't go around not having an instrument."

"You don't have to do that," I said. "I could always _sing_ for my supper."

"Ah, but then you run the risk of deafening your poor audience," said Jack.

"It must be really terrible for you to be trapped on this island," said Elizabeth, laying her head against him.

"Oh, yes," said Jack, placing a hand on Elizabeth's shoulder, cupping her neck. "But the company is infinitely better than last time, I think. The scenery has definitely improved."

"Mr Sparrow!" Elizabeth said in a slightly scandalized tone. "I'm not entirely sure I've had enough rum to allow that kind of talk."

"I know exactly what you mean, love." He pinched the ends of his mustache and curled them up. He looked incredibly stupid.

"I have," I informed Jack, hiccupping.

"Have what?"

"Had enough rum to allow that kind of talk."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, that's why I said-" I was cut off when Jack suddenly flopped over backwards.

"Jack?" I leaned over and poked him. He did not make any sort of response whatsoever. In hindsight, I think that was probably a very good thing, since his being unconscious prevented me from doing anything I would regret. I stood up and staggered over in the general direction of where Elizabeth was now standing.

"Is he asleep?" she wanted to know.

I nodded. "Out like a light."

Immediately Elizabeth set to work building a fire, using mainly the rum as fuel.

"Oooh, youuu're _shhhneaky_," I slurred, snickering.

"And you're drunk," she replied before going back to fire-building.

"Which is a tempor-temporary state that time can repair. Not like your sneakiness." I fell down on my butt, watching her. "Sneaky and cold-hearted. Bad combination. You're a downright reptile, you are. E_lizard_beth."

"I'm not a reptile _nor_ cold-hearted."

"Have to be, you know how much Jack loves his rum." I hiccupped again. "Very, very cold-hearted indeed.."

Elizabeth gave me an irritated look. "Not everyone worships him like you do."

"I don't worship him!" I did my best to look offended. "I'm just... attracted to him. He's very attractive. Don't you think he's attractive?"

"No, he's vile." Elizabeth kept on working on the fire.

"So...really gonna build up that fire, huh?"

"Yes," said Elizabeth. "And you should be, too."

"Why? If any of your hoity-toity friends comes to save us, it'll be the noose for me."

"If we are able to get off this wretched island, you might have a chance to escape the noose," Elizabeth told me. "But if we stay here, we'll all die for sure."

"When you put it that way..." I grabbed a bottle of rum, took off the top, and poured the contents over the fire. It shot up. Elizabeth smiled.

* * *

"_Oh, we pilfer and plunder and steal and stuff-_  
_Can't remember the words, so I'm making it up._  
_Yo ho, yo ho, or something like that,_  
_A bottle of rum and a big fluffy cat_," I sang with gusto, skipping around the enormous fire Elizabeth and I had created. I had passed out in a drunken stupor some time ago and slept for quite a while before waking up again, but still I hadn't quite recovered from said drunkenness. My skipping came to a halt when I ran headlong into Jack and fell back on my butt. "G'morning, Jack!"

"No! No! Not good!" Jack looked totally and utterly panicked.

"Uh...she did it," I said, pointing.

"You helped," she snapped.

"What are you doing?" Jack cried. "You burned all the food, the shade, the rum-"

"Yes, the rum is gone," said Elizabeth.

"Why is the rum gone?"

"One, it is a vile drink that turns even the most respectable men into complete scoundrels. Two, that signal is over a thousand feet high. The entire Royal Navy is out looking for me-"

"I seriously doubt that," I cut in.

She glared at me, as if to say, Whose side are you on anyway? and continued, "The entire Navy is out looking for me—do you really think there is even the slightest chance that they won't see this?"

"Three," I added. "It's fun to burn things. Did you see those flames? _Whoosh_!"

"But why is the rum gone?"

"Just wait, Captain Sparrow. You give it one hour, maybe two, keep a weather eye out and then you will see white sails on that horizon." Elizabeth plopped herself down on the sand, staring out at the ocean. Jack stalked off in the opposite direction. I ran after him.

"'Must've been terrible for you to be trapped here, Jack,'" Jack said darkly to himself in falsetto, imitating Elizabeth. "'Must've been terrible for you to be trapped here.' Well, it bloody is now!"

I chuckled. Jack spun around to face me. "You're no better than her," he said angrily.

"I'm sorry, Jack. I didn't mean it," I said, feeling horribly guilty. "Well, I meant it, but I was being stupid...and drunk. Very drunk. Elizabeth used said drunkenness against me, just like she did to you." I paused. "Besides, it wouldn't be difficult to replicate the rum-drinking experience. You could achieve something similar by eating sand and banging your head against a coconut."

Jack opened his mouth to say something and promptly closed it again. I could see why - the Dauntless was sailing towards the island.

"There'll be no living with her after this," Jack said.

* * *

"But we've got to save Will!" Elizabeth cried.

"No," Governor Swann said. "You're safe now. We will return to Port Royal immediately, not go gallivanting after pirates!"

"Aww," I said, pretending to be disappointed. "But I like gallivanting."

Once again, I was ignored. I had become used to this.

"Then we condemn him to death," Elizabeth declared.

"The boy's fate is regrettable, but then, so was his decision to engage in piracy."

"To rescue me! To prevent anything from happening to me!"

"If I may be so bold as to inject my professional opinion," said Jack, "the Pearl was listing near to scuppers after the battle. It's very unlikely she'll be able to make good time. Think about it. The last real pirate threat in the Caribbean, mate. How can you pass that up?"

Norrington replied, "By remembering that I serve others, Mr. Sparrow, not only myself."

That shut Jack up for a bit. But only for a bit.

"Commodore, I beg you, please do this," Elizabeth pleaded. "For me. As a wedding gift."

"Elizabeth. Are you accepting the Commodore's proposal?"

"I am." She sounded resigned, which was not at all an emotion one should be feeling when agreeing to get married.

"A wedding! I love weddings-drinks all around!" Jack cheered. Everyone gave him dirty looks. He sighed. "I know...'clap him in irons,' right?"

"Mr. Sparrow," said Norrington, "you will accompany these fine men to the helm and provide us with the bearings to Isla de Muerta. You will then spend the rest of the voyage contemplating all possible meanings of the phrase 'silent as the grave'. Do I make myself clear?"

"Inescapably clear," Jack replied.

"What about me?" I said.

Norrington glared at me. "You will begin your contemplating right now."

"Got it." I mimed locking up my mouth and throwing away the key.


	10. By Blood Undone

"Cherry."

"Date."

"Aren't those nuts?"

"No they're not, they're fruit."

"Okay, whatever. Um. Eggplant."

"That's a vegetable."

"No, man, it's a fruit. It has seeds."

"Shut up!" Mullroy said, interrupting our game. We hadn't been forced to get into the brig, but he and Murtogg still had to stand around watching us to make sure we behaved. "The Commodore said you were to be silent, remember?"

"_Do_ eggplants have seeds?" Murtogg said.

Mullroy smacked him on the shoulder. "Don't encourage them!"

Jack and I continued playing, our voices barely a whisper.

"Fig."

"Grapefruit."

"Horned melon."

"You made that up!"

"Did not."

We continued on like that all the way to Isla de Muerta. Once we got through the alphabet in fruit, it was Jack's turn to pick the category, and he chose beverages. All of his contributions were, of course, of the alcoholic variety. Mine kept getting sillier-T for "the tears of my enemies."

Once we'd arrived, Norrington, the other soldiers, Jack, and I all got into rowboats. "I don't care for the situation," said Norrington. "Any attempt to storm the caves could turn to an ambush."

"Not if you're the one doing the ambushing," said Jack. "I go in, I convince Barbossa to send his men out with their little boats. You and your mates return to the _Dauntless _and blast the bejesus outta them with your little cannons, eh?" He slung an arm around Norrington's shoulder. "What do you have to lose?"

Annoyed, Norrington removed Jack's arm from his shoulder. "Nothing I'd lament being rid of."

"Now, to be quite honest with you, there's still a slight risk for those aboard the _Dauntless_, which includes the future Mrs. Commodore."

Jack and I got out of the boats and went into the cave. He started pushing through the crowd of pirates, with me right on his heels. I had begun feeling a bit like a puppy, what with all this following around, but I feared that I was far too inexperienced with a sword to be doing much wandering off. Heck, I didn't even have a sword.

"Beg your pardon," said Jack.

Barbossa pressed a knife up against Will's throat. "Begun by blood..."

"Excuse me."

"By blood un-"

"Jack!" Will exclaimed. "Bailey!"

"'S not possible!" Barbossa growled.

"Not probable," Jack corrected.

"_Anything's_ possible," I added.

"Where's Elizabeth?" Will wanted to know.

"She's safe, just like I promised. She's all set to marry Norrington, just like she promised. You get to die for her, like you promised. And Bailey here has stuck with us to the very end for no particular reason at all, just like she promised. So we're all men of our word, really, except for Elizabeth and Bailey, who are, in fact, women."

"Shut up! You're next!" Barbossa leaned in to slit Will's throat.

"You don't want to be doing that, mate."

"No, I really think I do."

Jack shrugged. "Your funeral."

"Why don't I want to be doing it?"

"Well, because the HMS Dauntless, pride of the Royal Navy, is floating just offshore. Just hear me out, mate. You order your men to row out to the Dauntless. They do what they do best. Robert's your uncle, Fannie's your aunt, there you are with two ships. The makings of your own fleet. 'Course, you'll take the grandest as your flagship, and who's to argue? But what of the Pearl? Name me Captain, I'll sail under your colors, I'll give you ten percent of me plunder and you get to introduce yourself as Commodore Barbossa. Savvy?"

"I suppose, in exchange, you want me not to kill the whelp."

"No, no, not at all. By all means, kill the whelp. Just not yet. Wait to lift the curse until the opportune moment. For instance, after you've killed Norrington's men-" Jack picked up several coins and threw them back as he spoke. "Every - last - one." He pocketed one.

Will stared at Jack. "You've been planning this from the beginning. Ever since you learned my name."

"Yeah," said Jack casually.

"If it's any consolation," I told Will, "I had absolutely nothing to do with it."

Said Barbossa to Jack, "I want fifty percent of your plunder."

"Fifteen."

"Forty."

"Twenty-five, and I'll buy you the hat. A really big one-_Commodore_."

"We have an accord," said Barbossa, and they shook hands.

"All hands to the boats!" Jack yelled at the pirates. Barbossa gave him a look. "Apologies. You give the orders."

"Gents - take a walk." The pirates obeyed, walking away and turning into skeletons as they passed through the moonlight.

"Not to the boats?" Jack watched, looking a bit confused. He didn't dwell on it, though, and picked up a piece of treasure to examine.

"I must admit, Jack," Barbossa told him, "I thought I had ye figured. But it turns out that you're a hard man to predict."

"Me? I'm dishonest. And a dishonest man you can always trust to be dishonest. Honestly. It's the honest ones you want to watch out for, because you can never predict when they're going to do something incredibly..._stupid_." Jack suddenly unsheathed another pirate's sword and threw it to Will before unsheathing his own. Jack started fighting with Barbossa, and one of the three remaining cursed pirates took out his sword to go up against me. I squeaked in fright and scrambled to find a sword among the piles of stuff on the floor. Sword in hand, I got a good look at the guy and realized he was the one that smashed my fiddle. It felt like my whole body was buzzing with anger.

I managed to block his sword three times in a row - clang, clang, clang - and then the pirate slashed at me. I attempted to dodge it, but he got me good across the left shoulder, right where it meets the collarbone. I cried out in pain. In retaliation, I swung my sword as hard as I could and somehow - THWACK! - took his head right off. It rolled away, and the pirate chased after it. I clutched my shoulder and felt blood seeping out under my fingers. Gritting my teeth, I pressed my hand harder against the wound to try to stem the flow.

Fortunately, the other two remaining pirates walked right past me to join the first pirate in attacking Will and Elizabeth. Unfortunately for them, Will and Elizabeth had other plans, and the pirates were soon strung up and exploded.

Jack cut his hand and bled on the medallion, then tossed it to Will. Barbossa aimed his pistol at Elizabeth. While Barbossa wasn't looking, Jack shot him.

"Ten years you carry that pistol and now you waste your shot," Barbossa said.

"He didn't waste it." Will dropped the bloody medallions into the chest.

Barbossa dropped his sword and looked down at his wound, at the blood seeping out and spreading out across his shirt like a flower opening up. "I feel...cold..." he said softly, and fell over, dead. An apple rolled out of his hand.

I tossed my sword on the floor and took a step toward Barbossa. "I know he was evil and mutinous and trying to kill us and all that, but I can't help feeling a little bit sorry for him. He never did get to eat any apples."

"We should return to the _Dauntless_," Elizabeth told Will. I carefully examined a necklace (a very pretty one with an opal pendant on a gold chain), pretending not to eavesdrop.

"Your fiancé will be wanting to know you're safe." At this, Elizabeth's eyes filled with tears, and she turned away. I felt bad for her. It must be frustrating to be in love with such a doof.

At that moment, Jack swaggered over, literally covered in treasure, with a crown sitting lopsided on his head. "If you were waiting for the opportune moment," Jack told Will, "that was it."

"Says Jack Sparrow, master of opportune moments," I said.

"Make that Captain Jack Sparrow, master of opportune moments." He noticed that I was bleeding. "Bugger, that doesn't look pleasant," Jack said, looking concerned.

"Lucky this vest is red," I joked. "It's just a scratch, don't worry. Soon I'll have a scar and I can look all cool and rugged like you!" That made him chuckle.

To Will, Jack said, "Now, if you'll be so kind, I'd be much obliged if you'd drop us off at my ship."

We all got into the boat, and Will started rowing toward the _Dauntless_. "I'm sorry," Elizabeth said to both me and Jack, staring at her feet so as to avoid looking at either of us.

"They done what's right by them," said Jack. "Can't expect more than that."


	11. Fetching the Horizon

During the ride back to Port Royal, we'd been thrown in the _Dauntless_'s brig.

"Seems like all we ever do is get tossed around from jail cell to jail cell," I grumbled.

Jack leaned back against the cell wall and folded his arms behind his head. "Not much we can do right now," he said. "Might as well try and get some shut-eye."

"You don't need to tell _me_ twice." I flopped onto the ground.

I fell asleep on the floor and woke up a few hours later feeling strangely warm. A little disoriented, I realized that Jack had wound up sleeping on the floor next to me, his back against mine. Suddenly I felt very self-conscious. I didn't know what to do, so I just kept lying there and pretended to be asleep until they came to get us for the hanging.

You might have thought it was a party, the way Jack was acting so nonchalant. Inside I was terrified, but I was determined not to let it show._There's no reason to be scared_, I consoled myself. _You know that this ends well_. But it was hard to stay positive, standing there right next to the gallows, waiting, my wrists bound together with thick, itchy rope. I glanced at Jack and found that he'd been looking at me. Of course, he immediately started looking around in every which way, as though pretending he hadn't just been caught gawking. I wasn't sure what to make of that.

Some stuffy-looking official read from a paper. "Jack Sparrow, let it be known that you have-"

"Captain," Jack corrected. "_Captain_ Jack Sparrow."

"-for your willful commission of crimes against the crown, said crimes being numerous in quantity and sister in nature, the most egregious of these to be cited herewith: piracy, smuggling, impersonating an officer of the Spanish Royal Navy, impersonating a cleric of the Church of England-"

"Ah, yes," Jack said with a smile, reminiscing.

"I'd be interested in hearing the details of some of these," I remarked.

The list continued on. "-sailing under false colors, arson, kidnapping, looting, poaching, brigandage, pilfering, depravity, depredation, and general lawlessness. And for these crimes you have been sentenced to be, on this day, hung by the neck until you are dead. May God have mercy on your soul."

Just then, Elizabeth gasped. "I-can't-breathe!" and fell over. The executioner pulled the lever on the wood beneath Jack's feet, and Will threw a sword at the bottom so that Jack had a foothold. Will started fighting his way up to the gallows, and Jack tried frantically not to slip off of the sword. Figuring it was worth a shot, I attempted to gnaw through the ropes on my wrists. This, astonishingly enough, did not work. Fortunately, after cutting Jack free, Will cut my ropes as well. I snatched a sword off of a Hoity-Toity Type (HTT) who had his back turned and joined Jack and Will in the fight. It only lasted a few minutes before the HTTs cornered us, but while it was going on it was pretty damn cool. Like being the third of a demented Three Musketeers.

"I thought we might have to endure some manner of ill-conceived escape attempt," Norrington said to Will, "but not from _you_."

Added Governor Swann, "On our return to Port Royal, I granted you clemency. And this is how you thank me? By throwing your lot in with them? They're pirates!"

"And good men," Will said. "Uh, people."

Jack grinned. _That's us_, he mouthed, nodding and pointing proudly at himself, then me, and then himself again.

"If all I have achieved is that the hangman will earn three pairs of boots instead of two," Will continued, "so be it. At least my conscience will be clear."

"You forget your place, Turner," said Norrington icily.

"It's right here between you and them," Will replied.

"As is mine," Elizabeth said, standing next to Will.

"Elizabeth!" Governor Swann cried. "Lower your weapons. For goodness sake, put them down!" Reluctantly, they did so.

"So this is where your heart truly lies, then?" said Norrington. I felt a bit sorry for him.

"It is."

"Well! I'm actually feeling rather good about this," said Jack brightly. He offered me his arm. I slipped it through the crook of his elbow.

"Me too," I agreed.

To Governor Swann, Jack said, "I think we've all arrived at a very special place, eh? Spiritually...ecumenically..._grammatically_..." He, with me in tow, took a step backward and turned to Norrington. "I want you to know that I was rooting for you. Know that."

"I wasn't," I told him.

Another step backward. Onto Elizabeth. "Elizabeth - it never would have worked out between us, darling. I'm sorry."

"And I'm sure she's devastated to hear it," I said dryly. Elizabeth smiled.

Another step backward. "Uh, Jack-" I began, glancing behind us.

"Shh." Now, last but definitely not least... "Will-nice hat."

Will smiled.

A final step backward. "Friends! This is the day you will always remember as-"

Jack stumbled backwards, falling over the battlement and dragging me down with him. I screamed. There was a whooshing feeling in my stomach like when you go down a steep part of a roller coaster. And then, suddenly, I was underwater. I kicked my legs and flailed my arms around until I got to the surface, and I wiped my eyes and gasped, spluttering saltwater. My whole body was shaking.

"Holy crap," I told Jack, "don't ever do that again! You hear me? _Never_-"

Jack grabbed me and kissed me. He tasted like rum. His mustache was tickly and kind of coarse, but his mouth was soft. I kissed him back, feeling tingly all over.

"Where did _that_ come from? Not that I'm complaining."

"Master of opportune moments, remember?"

I giggled. Then we swam over to the Pearl and climbed aboard.

"I thought you were supposed to keep to the code," Jack remarked.

"We figured they were more actual...guidelines," Gibbs replied.

Cotton handed Jack his hat. "Thank you," said Jack, putting it on.

Anamaria draped his coat around his shoulders. "Captain Sparrow," she said, "the Black Pearl is yours."

Jack walked to the helm and stood there for a moment, looking around fondly. He really loved this ship. It gave me warm fuzzies inside to see him so happy.

"On deck, you scabrous dogs! Man the braces! Let down and haul to run free. Now, bring me that horizon." Jack looked at me. "I know how enjoyable it must be to stare at me, darling, but those orders were for _all_ members of the crew."

"And I would follow them gladly," I said, "if I was able to understand a word of them."

And so Jack explained that the braces are the lines used to rotate the yards around the mast.

"Lines?"

"Ropes."

"And what are the yards?"

"The spars."

"The what?"

"'_The what_'?" Jack smacked his hand to his forehead in exasperation. "You _really_ don't know anything about sailing."

"I _do_ know what's port and what's starboard. Contrary to popular opinion. You didn't tell me what spars are."

"The..the horizontal poles on the masts!" Jack said. "Goodness, teaching you is going to be a process."

* * *

end of part one


End file.
